Valentine's Day
by PotterheadAna02
Summary: Valentine's Day for four couples. Written for the Valentine's Day Challenge. Draco/Hermione(Post Hogwarts), Harry/Hermione(During fourth year Hogwarts), Neville/Luna(During sixth year Hogwarts), Lucius/Narcissa(Post War). No character bashing! [Harmione and Dramione not in continuation, entirely different scenarios.]
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except this endearing plot!

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><p><strong>This was written as part of the Valentine's Day challenge by Ami L. Mendal.<strong>

**My OTP #1: Dramione**

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><p>Draco Malfoy sat staring into the fire moodily.<p>

He seemed to be doing that very often lately. It made him think, the fire. How it sputtered, seemingly at war with itself just like he had been, all those years ago in Hogwarts. He had never wanted to become a Death Eater really. Neither had his father wanted him to join the ranks, contrary to people's belief. No, Lucius Malfoy had been a very protective father and had done everything in his power to protect Draco from the Dark Lord, but being a Death Eater brought its share of perils. Basically, the entire family was doomed to follow that flat-nosed albino bigoted arsehole just because they had had their accounts frozen and he had made their Manor his camping spot, so they couldn't even run away if they wanted to. When he was finally defeated, the Malfoys waited for the inevitable summons and presented the entire story, grasping at any available straw, they tried to present their witnesses but no one was willing to speak up for them.

It had been no less of a shock for the three of them when Harry Potter and Hermione Granger decided to stand up for them. Potter revealed that Narcissa Malfoy had lied to Voldemort, and had it not been for her, Voldemort would have killed Harry a long time ago before he proceeded toward Hogwarts. Hermione, most surprisingly, insisted that when they had been held captive at Malfoy Manor, before his aunt had tortured her, Malfoy had lied about Harry's appearance, which was fundamental in their escape. The jury had decided to hand them a sentence of a year of house arrest for his parents and two years of tracking of their movements, for their presence in the battle could not be denied.

Relieved, he had followed his parents to the two Gryffindors, who were in deep conversation with Weasley. They had seemed surprised to see the Malfoys, but the girl hid it well enough. Lucius Malfoy had thanked the two with as much dignity as he could and visibly hesitated before nodding at Weasley's direction. The redhead had spluttered in surprise and Narcissa, saving him from embarrassment, patted his back and shook hands formally with the other two. She had stopped for a while near Potter and whispered, "Thank you, Harry." Gently, she grazed his scar with her fingers and hastily turned away. The three had then turned to Draco, who seemed at a loss for words. He shook his head as he remembered his eloquent opener, "Um, so...well, ahem..thank you." Potter had, in a very shocking move, grasped his hand and shaken it firmly while Weasley spoke gruffly, "Yeah, no problem. Just, next time you house a ditzy freak like that, you may want to inform people if you are being threatened by him too, you know. Just a suggestion." He then recalled Hermione's roll of the eyes and when she turned to face the Slytherin and had gently nodded in acknowledgement.

Things had gone rather well in their lives thereon. His father secured the post of Minister of Magical Reinforcement in the Ministry after some years of hard work and his mother had launched her own interior designing label. He himself had completed his graduation from Hogwarts and now, twenty-seven years old, was the youngest Head of Trauma at St. Mungo's. He smiled to himself as he remembered how happy his parents had been at the news and also how Hermione had insisted on a treat from him.

Ah, Hermione.

She had also graduated along with her friends in the same year as him and was also working at St. Mungo's, though as the Head of Medical Research. Her relationship with Weasley had died off due to a mutual conclusion that they were better off as best friends, because they had loved each other as siblings. He got to know this when she had arrived crying to work one day, and he had sat her down and given her a cup of coffee, as she spoke about how disoriented she felt the first day without Ron. She had blurted out all her troubles to him, having gotten acquainted with him through the course of their internship. He had nursed her through the phase and she was grateful to him for that. She then offered to go with him for a cup of coffee as a repayment. Slowly, the two found reasons as random as running out of a quill to not remembering the other's face to drop into the other's office, or hang out at the other's house after work. Luna Lovegood, Assistant Head of Trauma had dreamily winked at them and curled her hands to form a heart at them as he scowled and shut the door to her office. Even his parents seemed to feel free with her and he had discovered the glory of dental floss from her father.

He didn't even try to deny; Hermione Granger was a very special woman in his life. She was fierce, passionate, beautiful, loyal, independent, witty, hardworking and simply astounding. Several men had tried to go out with her, only to have him hear her later about how awful someone's pronunciation was, or how pompous someone else was. While men gazed at her toned legs in her pencil skirt, he remembered how she had bounced in her pyjamas in excitement when he had dropped in at her place before work to give her a present on her birthday. Men preferred to compliment her on her perfect features-her lightly pursed lips, or her delicate nose or her serene gorgeous eyes. Draco Malfoy, instead found himself getting lost in her childish pout as he teased her, the way she scrunched up her nose while in deep thought, and her sparkling eyes alight with the fire of challenge. Men found her intellect dominating, he found it refreshing. Men considered her to be a trophy, he thought of her as a privilege. She was thought of as a War Hero, he knew how scared and nervous she had been through the ordeal. She had motivated him to become a better person each day and his day would start with her and he would drift off to sleep thinking about her. He sighed to himself as he came to the same conclusion he had for the past year.

Slowly, and surely, he had fallen in love with Hermione Granger.

Just then, his mother entered the room, dressed in an elegant gown. She sat down on a chair beside him, as she asked, "What's the matter, Draco? Why aren't you out today? It is Valentine's Day after all."

He shook his head and mumbled, "Just tired, Mother."

Narcissa Malfoy frowned and a line marred her brow as she spoke, "Draco, dear, what's bothering you?"

Draco raised his head wearily and relented, "Mother, I have this...friend. He thinks...actually, _knows_ that he loves this girl. She is amazing and absolutely perfect in every which way, and they are great friends. She doesn't know about this and he is hesitant to ask her, because..." he broke off.

Narcissa bit back a smile and mused, "And why is he not telling the girl?"

"Because he is afraid what the girl would think. Whether she will be repulsed by it and break off her ties with him." He responded.

"Draco...love is risky. And scary too. But sometimes, the chance is worth taking if it feels right. This friend of yours, is he sure about his feelings?" spoke Narcissa slowly.

He nodded fiercely, "I am...I mean, he is."

"Then by all means, go ahead and tell her! Hermione is a lovely girl indeed." Chuckled Narcissa.

Her son stumbled as he got up, surprise etched across his features. Narcissa raised an eyebrow wryly and remarked, "Draco, did you honestly think we are so oblivious? You wrote about her in all of your letters in the course of your internship, you are in her companionship for almost the entire day, save when you go to the bathroom, or when you sleep at night. You have met her parents on their anniversary, she met us on ours. You two have been at each other's side ever since you got your jobs, be it a birthday, a holiday, New Year's, Christmas, or any ordinary day. She has had a positive influence on you. You seem more optimistic about things, you consider people's emotions and sometimes even put their needs before yours, and knowing you, congratulating Ronald and Harry on their engagements to Lavender Brown and Ginny Weasley by showing up in their office with a bottle of wine just proves to show how accommodating and social Hermione had made you. Honestly, I am surprised why you didn't think of doing so before!" she finished with a glare at her son.

Draco sat back astonished and asked, "But Mother, how...why..wh..never mind."

She laughed and patted his hand in understanding. He looked up at her and mumbled, "Mother, but..I value her too much in my life to take the risk of confessing my feelings and possibly making her distant from me! What's to say our interactions will not become awkward and...and even non-existent? I love Hermione."

"Draco. You disappoint me."

He swivelled around to find his father standing at the door, his mouth pursed tight and a frown on his face. Draco gulped. He knew his father had gotten over his hating Muggleborns phase long ago, even before Voldemort's downfall. Still, Draco had his apprehensions about his father being willing to let his son not be with a Pureblood, as had been the Malfoy tradition.

Draco stood up and faced his father, "Father, I...it's true. I do love her."

Lucius walked over to his son and wife as he muttered, "All these years, everything I ever taught this boy has fallen on deaf ears. No use teaching him anything at all!"

Draco clenched his jaw and controlled the flare of temper at his father's words. When would people begin to look past a person's blood status and see them for _what_ they were worth?

Narcissa spoke up, "Lucius, whatever do you mean?"

He replied, "This is a reflection on our upbringing, Narcissa! Everything that we Malfoys stand for, this boy here is intent upon destroying it permanently! I am more disgusted than I am sad at it-"

Draco burst out as he broke in, "Father, how can you honestly even _house_ these views any longer? If you recall, it was because of Hermione that we were able to walk free! She and Potter spoke up for us when we most need help! And despite all that she's done for us, despite the fact that she makes me _want_ to be a better person, you simply cannot ever be _happy_ or let go of those prejudices for _once_ in your life?"

There was a humming silence for a few seconds after his outburst after which Lucius spoke in a surprised tone, "What makes you think I have a problem with Hermione?"

Draco gaped at his father in surprise as the man began laughing and added, "Oh, Draco, you are mistaken. In fact, Narcissa and I are more than open to the idea of having Hermione around you, maybe even as a member of this house soon enough, eh? No, I was merely disappointed that after all those years of inculcating the values of honour and bravery in you, you could not muster up the courage to profess your feelings for the lady. We Malfoys are people of honour, son, and I will not let your cowardice or indecisiveness tarnish our reputation of not being honest and courageous. Now, go ahead, tell the woman how much you love her!"

Draco shook his head in amazement and broke into a heartfelt grin at his father's words. Impulsively, he hugged his father and felt him tense for a second before he patted his son's back proudly. He then kissed his mother's cheek and spoke in a trembling voice, "Is my hair okay? And do you think I should change my clo-"

"You look fine, Draco. And she has seen you in worse, so go!" laughed Narcissa.

Nodding, he stepped into the fireplace and shouted, "Hermione Granger's office, St. Mungo's!" After the gut-wrenching Floo ride, he stumbled into her office where she was busy signing some files. She shrieked in surprise at the sudden appearance.

"Merl-Draco! What on Earth do you mean scaring me like that?" she cried, a hand on her chest and she tried to calm herself.

He stood up straight and took a few deep breaths. Worried that he hadn't responded, she got up and stood in front of him and asked him worriedly, "Are you okay? Why is your breathing so laboured? Do you feel some shortness of breath?"

He smiled at her questions and shook his head, "No, nothing's wrong. I, uh..well, I wanted to know, do you have any plans for today?"

She frowned and replied, "You came here to ask me that? Well, no, not really. Why, what happened?"

He nodded and spoke, "Oh, nothing, just wanted to know."

Hermione looked into his eyes trying to figure out what was going on in his mind and he almost melted into an undignified puddle of goo.

"Hermione, I...well, honestly, I came here for something else." He began.

"Okay?" she responded, a smile on her face.

"Wait, what if she slaps me out of disgust? Or hates me?" he thought in a panic and darted his eyes around the room, "I...ha, well I ran out of these file binders and wanted some! Thank you!" He grabbed a handful as he reached behind her back.

Hermione sighed and he felt a pang of shame at the small sound.

"Okay." She muttered.

Draco swallowed nervously and spoke, "Look, Hermione...there's...there's something else."

"Honestly, Draco, I am feeling quite repetitive, but what's the matter?" she asked in a slightly exasperated tone.

"Just listen to me first, okay? And don't hate me later." He added.

"Why would I hate-"

"I love you. I think I have, ever since I saw you crying that day after your break up with Weasley. You are the most amazing person I have ever had the fortune to meet, and I cannot begin to emphasise how incomplete my day is without you. Hell, my life too. I have wanted to kiss you almost every time I see you; when you stick your tongue out at me when I bug you, when you drool when you sleep, when you snort while laughing hard...each single moment. It's taken me more courage to ask you what I will than when I had to face Voldemort...I don't know whether you will be okay with the idea...but will you have lunch with me? As a date?" Draco spoke nervously and waited for her response.

Hermione stared back at him and whispered, "I don't drool when I sleep."

He blinked at her, "_That's_ what you took from that?"

She squinted her eyes and he thought, "Oh boy."

"I do _not_ drool when I sleep, it's just an effect of gravity on my open mouth, thank you very much. And I am shocked that you found me scarier to approach than Voldemort. And to answer your question, yes I will." She finished with a flourish.

He had winced at her initial words but snapped his head to look at her when she spoke the last sentence. She was grinning at him with a twinkle in her eyes.

"What? Y..you will?" he asked her. Today was _really_ a day of surprises.

"Of course I will, you daft ferret! I was beginning to wonder why you hadn't asked me out yet, considering that we spend almost every waking hour near each other! And did you really think I was that unapproachable?" she asked him softly.

He sighed and took her hand, "Not at all. On the contrary, for the past year, I've wanted to tell you this numerous times, but...I was scared. Of losing you. Of the fact that there was a possibility of our friendship becoming awkward, or weird. That's why I was so nervous. I could not even imagine my life without you in it."

She looked up at him with tears in her eyes and he exclaimed, "What's wrong?"

Sniffing, she smiled, "Oh, nothing. It's just...too many emotions."

He nodded understandingly and kissed her forehead when she growled and snatched her hands out of his as she grabbed his face and kissed him on the lips. He was floored, instantly. It was amazing, passionate and honest.

She broke off and remarked sarcastically, "Gee, _now_ I get why you weren't in Gryffindor. How much courage does it take to kiss the girl you like?"

He looked at her blankly, still reeling under the effect of the kiss. Were there any more surprises for the day?

As he opened his mouth to reply, she clicked her tongue, "Tsk tsk tsk. No talking till we have food. Now, I'd like to take you up on your offer of the date, if it still holds."

He nodded, breaking into a smile as she grabbed her coat and took his hand. Snuggling up against his side, she sighed contentedly and announced, "Happy Valentine's Day, Draco."

Smiling, he spoke out the words he had been aching to speak for ages, "Happy Valentine's Day, Hermione. I love you."

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><p>AN: Please do read and review! More fics coming up soon!


	2. Chapter 2

Harry Potter sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time that night and turned to bury his cheek into the pillow.

It had been four hours since the Yule Ball had gotten over and it was all he could think of. He had not had fun, to say the least. First, he was told to open with the dance he had never even prepared for. He then proceeded to step all over Parvati's feet while swinging along with the rhythm, and then spent most of the time on his gluteus maximus, observing and complaining about people with Ron. Then, he had lost sight of his two best friends only to find them shouting at each other. When he tried to break in, he was admonished by Hermione and was grabbed by Ron who pushed the two of them away from her. He had glanced back to see the girl slumping down on the steps, a shoe in her hand and tears down her face. "This wasn't how Cinderella went." He'd thought sadly, but had to leave Hermione alone.

Hermione.

She had looked absolutely...ethereal. She looked so different from her usual self. She used to be dressed in bulky robes and her hair was often bundled casually into a ponytail, or fell limply down her back. It wasn't as though Harry didn't know that his best friend was a girl, unlike Ron. No, Harry Potter was aware of the fact that the smartest witch of their age was a girl, a very attractive one indeed. This was reminded to him whenever he lost the ability to string words coherently into a meaningful sentence whenever she laughed with him and ruffled his hair affectionately, or when he seemed to drift off staring into her swirling, animated eyes. Oh, unbeknownst to him, Harry was beginning to fall in love with Hermione Granger.

Knowing that sleep wouldn't come to him anytime soon, he rolled off the bed and put on his spectacles. Tiptoeing out of the boys' dorm, he padded his way down to the Common Room where the fire was crackling merrily. He stopped for a second, hearing a sniffle. But it stopped just as quick and he shrugged to himself, crossing the stairs and nearly yelled in surprise. He sighted a bump just above the head of the couch and grasped his wand.

"Who's there?" he called out.

"It's...it's me." A voice replied and he blinked in surprise.

"Hermione?" he asked out loud and strode across to the couch, where she sat on the ground, curled up with her head resting on her knees. She had changed her dress into her usual pyjamas and her hair was now tied into her typical ponytail, some locks of which fell on her face as she rubbed her nose and looked up at him.

"Hi Harry." She addressed the boy.

He slid down next to her and spoke, "Hermione, are you alright?"

She sniffed and responded, "I'm okay. Couldn't sleep. You?"

"Same." He replied, looking into the fire.

The two sat in silence for some time after which Harry began, "Look, Hermione, I need you to know that I don't think you did anything wrong in going with Krum tonight, really. I don't think you are 'fraternising with the enemy' or anything, because...well, honestly, it was _our_ fault that you weren't asked earlier. Please don't cry."

Hermione looked up at him and didn't reply for a while after which she slowly started speaking, "I am not crying anymore. I _was_, but that's just because I hadn't imagined that the Ball would end like this. It just got overwhelming, I guess. I think I knew you didn't think so, Harry, but I assume the uncertainty of whether you were angry at me or not ate me up inside."

Harry sighed and looked at her face. She bent her head toward her lap, fiddling with the fraying edges of her oversized sweater. Suddenly, he stood up and she looked at him in surprise. He extended his hand and offered, "Dance with me." His fear of dancing just vanished. Now all that mattered to him was making her smile.

"Harry, don't be silly. There's no music." She protested as he hoisted her up.

Shrugging, he held her hand and said, "Music can be heard even in silence, Hermione. I'll sing, you join along. We'll make up our own music."

Pelting out the first lyric of the first song that came to his mind, he started a tapping with his feet, pulling the girl along with him as he scaled the length of the sofa on his toes. Reluctantly, Hermione dragged her feet and he stopped singing, gesturing for her to continue, stuck in a weird pose with his hand on his knee and a leg in the air. Hesitantly, she sang a random song after him and he clapped his hands, prancing around her like a gazelle. She started twirling and moving her hands in the air when he broke in and croaked out another song. They clapped their hands and clicked their ankles, chanting the chorus. Enthused, Hermione picked up the next random song that came to her mind and they held each other's hand and leant in close, springing back apart in tune with their rather tuneless singing. Hollering, Harry leapt onto the couch and jumped about in dance, as she crooned the vocals and climbed up with him, their voices high when suddenly Fred and George walked into the Common Room, the Fat Lady swinging shut behind them.

"When I get older.."

"..I will be stronger.."

"..they'll call me freedom.."

"..just like the waving fla-Gred!" squealed Hermione, stumbling and collapsing onto the couch, knocking Harry down to the ground. "I mean, Fred! George!"

"Hermione."

"Harry." intoned the twins slyly.

Rubbing his head, Harry sat up and asked the boys, "Where were you till now?"

"Out-" began George.

"-and about." finished Fred.

"Well, um...I'll be off. You boys go sleep!" blurted Hermione.

"Right-oh, Hermy." Fred grinned.

"Goodnight, Hermy." George smirked.

"Uh, goodnight Hermione!" spoke Harry as she nodded hastily at the three and red-faced, sped toward her dormitory.

"So, Harry, dancing with a lady-" nudged George.

"-after the Ball with no one around-"

"-did you? Subtle job there-"

"-proclaiming your love for her." finished Fred, looking at the flustered boy.

"Wh-danc-subt-love-huh?" He fumbled for words as they trooped to their dorms.

"You love her-" Fred rolled his eyes.

"-and she likes you too-"

"-so go ahead and ask her out!" they cried in unison.

"She does? I should?" questioned Harry.

"Of course. We _know_ stuff, and she does like you back. You don't always need for it to be Valentine's Day to ask a girl out!" smiled Fred.

"Ask her tomorrow. We're sure she'll say yes. You need some Courage Candies we made?" offered George.

"No, I'm fine. I'll see about tomorrow though...thanks, twins." Harry shook their hand and bidding goodnight to them, lay down in his bed.

No, he still wasn't going to sleep that night; he was too excited for the next day. He knew he'd wake up with a sore throat and stiff joints, but her laughter and smiles had been worth it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing except my exam grades, which I'd rather not. Ugh.

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><p>Ever since he'd stepped into Hogwarts, he'd been around the Chosen One, a boy he'd momentarily resented. But all his animosity had evaporated when he'd gotten to know how Harry had stood up for him in just their first class when Malfoy had hijacked his Remembrall. It was then that he'd realised that Harry was just as young and innocent a lad as himself, and from that moment forth, he'd counted Harry, Hermione and Ron as his most bankable friends.<p>

All his life, his grandmother had been doting and loving to a fault; extolling his virtues, brushing aside his flaws. It had been a really rude shock when he was picked on by Malfoy and the Slytherins. He was sad, and couldn't even talk about it to anyone. Snape tormented him to the point that his Boggart was the man. He had started losing interest in classes and made excuses to skip lectures. His friends had noticed but only some bothered to go to the extent of asking what was wrong.

Hermione had offered to help him with his assignments and notes, when she'd seen his blank parchments and books. Harry, who'd seen him being bullied by Malfoy, urged him to go to Dumbledore about the matter. But the man was...the Headmaster. He surely had more important things to worry about. Plus, what kind of impression would that create on the man-son of stupendous Aurors, Frank and Alice Longbottom, meek and timid, came scurrying at the sight of some trouble? Ron, bless his soul, had taught him a few punches and kicks, pummelling a hapless Seamus who'd simply sat by, to help him with the next Malfoy encounter.

But nothing changed. It was all a vicious, ridiculing world and no one actually understood his predicament.

It was in times like these that he felt like a burden on Earth. He had absolutely no trace of the Gryffindor bravery, no sign of being the son of the gritty Frank Longbottom, or the silent yet warrior-like Alice. What was his existence worth? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

It was on an ironic night, Valentine's Day, that he'd lain awake yet again, plagued by these wretched thoughts, doubting the use of his living. An uncanny acceptance had settled in his soul, as he draped a cloak around himself and crept toward the Astronomy Tower. He climbed the steps to the narrow ledge.

_Six._

"You clumsy oaf, why do you even bother attending my class?"

_Five._

"Haha! Longbottom, what's the matter, dropped your brain somewhere here? What're you searching for, idiot?"

_Four._

"No, don't touch that Neville. I don't want it broken! Hey, I'm just joking!"

_Three_.

"It's not your lack of effort, Longbottom. It's your utter lack of intellect and talent to even try and think enough."

_Two._

He now stood one step away from the drop, wind whipping his face as tears dried on his cheeks. Why did people strive to be perfect? Wasn't being imperfect and attempting to be good within one's flaws perfection in itself? Why did he have to conform to the ideals of people, and be ridiculed for being himself?

No more.

It was all going to end now. Gran would be devastated, but she'd understand. Maybe, she would.

_One..._

"It's an awfully narrow area to sit upon," called out a sweet fluting voice.

Whipping around, he grasped the rails as he almost stumbled and shakily asked, "Wh-who's there?"

"Aren't you Neville Longbottom?" came the reply, and a figure emerged. She was short and contrastingly pale in the shadows, her long wispy hair flowing down her back. Her voice was lilting and her face serene, as she stood up from her perch on a bench in the shadows.

Wow. She was beautiful.

"What are you doing here? And how do you know me? Who are you?" he asked her, rubbing his cheeks as he wiped away the tear-tracks, not moving from the penultimate step.

"I come here sometimes. I like to think alone, it's more peaceful without the incessant comments and statements people make. And we once had a common lecture by Professor Sprout, Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. I'm Luna Lovegood," She replied calmly, walking upto him and looking up at him.

Luna...ah yes. He'd heard some jokes about a crazy girl in Ravenclaw. Loony, they'd called her. They'd called her lost and ditzy. But he'd never seen someone more perfect than her.

"Oh yes, I remember you," He replied lamely.

She tilted her head and spoke, "It's okay. There's no need to pretend. Most people don't notice me anyway."

How couldn't they? Rather...how hadn't _he_?

"It's awfully narrow up there. Why don't you come down?" she spoke up.

He then recalled why he had come up there in the first place.

"N...no. I have to do something," He took out his wand and focussed on obliviating her.

"Obli-"

"Expelliarmus," She stated calmly and his wand flew into her open hand. As he gaped, she turned and sat on a bench nearby.

"You were thinking of leaping off, weren't you?" she asked softly and he sat down heavily, shocked at her question.

"There's no need to reply, I understand. It all got to you didn't it? What everyone says, what they think?" she started speaking, "You thought that there was no motivation anymore. You just gave up. You tried finding reasons to carry on, and drew a blank each time. You were frustrated and helpless. You just stopped trying. You stopped _surviving_, didn't you?"

"H-how can you say these things? You know nothing about me," He faltered, her words hitting home.

"No, Neville, I don't. But I do know someone who was going through the same things as you. She had abandoned hope too. But despite the very same thoughts that ran through your mind just now, something made her step back and turn to her dormitories. Something gave her hope," The girl stopped speaking, and he felt an unwanted silence hanging in the air.

"What?" he asked, curious despite his need to be alone.

"She saw a Kranklehurt chick. It was just the littlest thing, with its miniscule beak and tiny wings. It was trying to fly, and it kept falling. It'd weakly flutter up a bit and just as sadly, spiral downward. As she watched, it kept tumbling down, the wind ruffling its feathers. She'd almost taken out her wand and leant to cast a levitating spell when like a glorious miracle, it somersaulted and swooped up, bobbing up and down as it meandered through the air. Casting a glance back at her, it chirruped and flew toward the horizon, where the palest of pinks was rising with the sun. It wasn't the end; not really, she realised. It was merely a new beginning," she shrugged lightly and looked at the boy.

Neville sat in silence for a moment and averted his gaze from her penetrating icy-blue eyes and stared at the wall, "Who was she anyway? And there's no escape from this-this misery and ridicule."

Luna stood up and hoisted him up by his collar, her grip surprisingly strong as she swivelled him so that he faced the Lake. Standing beside him, she replied, "Don't you see? There's no morning without the pitch black of the night. It's only after the darkest of night has passed that we truly see the brightness of the stars. Look."

She pointed out into the distance and he turned his head to follow her finger. A gentle soft glow of pink slowly made its way over the Lake and he looked up to see the sun rising, peeking quietly over the horizon as it spread its glow in the sky. Awed, he turned to the girl who smiled absently at the sight.

"Beautiful, isn't it? You see, it has no end. It's an infinite loop, but you can choose which end to start with. You can either choose to think of it as periods of sorrow and darkness with joy in the middle for a little while, or as sorrow which is ever so thinly sandwiched between durations of happiness. Which is it, Neville?" She leaned against the ledge and looked at him.

"Well, I-" he began hesitantly, but she stopped him, "No, don't reply now. Think over it. It'll do you good. It did the girl good too."

They jumped as a bell rung in the distance, and Luna said, "I should be going. We have an awfully early class today."

She skipped gracefully down the steps and turned back to look at him and waved, "See you around. Take care, Neville." He raised his hand as she pranced away out of sight. His wand lay where she had sat and he twirled it in his hands as he slowly made his way to the Gryffindor Common Room.

A few days later, Luna received an anonymous Owl with a steady handwriting that wrote just six words: "Thank you. You take care too." Her fellow Ravenclaws were startled to see the calm Luna frantically searching the grounds for something throughout the day. She slid in around dinner and watched as an owl flew in and swooped low at the Gryffindor table.

Neville was eating and involved in a heated debate with Hermione over the merits of Buboter Pus versus those of Ytterbium Lotion when an owl screeched and dropped a parcel on his head. Frowning, he rubbed the sore spot and unwrapped the neat covering. A single feather fell onto the table and a page fluttered to the floor. He bent down and read it, the words printed onto it:

"_Krancklehurts are birds that are sighted most commonly when one has a low mood. They have an innate ability to sense sorrow and often appear in the form of spirit-lifters. History holds that the babies are the rarest and most potent sensors of sorrow. Krancklehurts are sadly undermined for their knack of relieving sorrow and show remarkable plumage which, as scientifically proven, have caused a relaxation in the nervous system of the person and releases oxytocin, an anti-depressant enzyme, in the body._

As I mentioned, I saw one and caught its loose feather as it flew away. It's been my guardian charm and I want to pass it on to you. Look after yourself and I hope you chose the sandwich theory.

May you never have to see a Krancklehurt ever again."

The former text seemed to be a page out of a book and the latter was written in a small, neat cursive. As his friends craned their necks and peered at the information, Neville looked up at a soft pale face surrounded by a mass of golden blonde hair. Smiling at the girl, he lowered his head and gazed at the solitary feather as he twirled it in his fingers.

He didn't need to seek out a Krancklehurt bird. He found his own in her.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: ** Yes, this is still alive! I had written this a long while ago while I was erstwhile actively writing and completely forgotten about it. Yesterday, I was sifting through all the pdfs and presentations that I'd downloaded for my currently ongoing exams(grumble) when I stumbled across this.

So here's to my dearies. Hope you like it. Reviews are always appreciated.


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